It is said when someone dies we lose a library. A friend passed away Monday night.
I reflect on his gifts, on what he leaves. He was a gatherer and creator of community. He loved to cook and garden and offer those gifts, bringing together the wider community we share.
I read these words of Simone Weil, To be rooted is perhaps the most important and least recognized need of the human soul. I think of how he was rooted, and now, physicality dropped, essence expands and soars.
I’m still cleaning out “stuff”, perhaps will be until I pass. Today, going through papers, I read Etty Hillesum, who in 1943, was deported and murdered in Auschwitz concentration camp.
She wrote: Every day I shall put my papers in order and every day I shall say farewell. And the real farewell, when it comes, will only be a small outward confirmation of what has been accomplished within me from day to day.
My small wren friend continues to tend to her nest. I think of what it is to be one of her eggs, so cared for within the shell, and soon there will be tiny chirps as walls pecked through, drop away, and tiny beings learn to fly through air, fragrant and clear, and buoyed with plant and animal exchange.
As Jack Kornfield says: Those who are awake live in a constant state of amazement.
May we all live amazed.
